Starting is the Hardest Part

While pole dancing has become a more acceptable activity in recent years, I surprise myself anytime I realize I’ve been doing this since 2013. It’s a huge part of me, but I initially spent a regrettable amount of time and energy compartmentalizing it away from my professional and personal life due to the stigma.

Ironically, this dark secret was also the only “fitness” activity that I’ve been able to maintain for an extended period. As an easily bored and distracted type of individual, I’ve tried just about anything that might contribute to a healthy and active body, but nothing else stuck the same way. Pole dancing has kept me afloat through times where I was in poor physical, mental, and emotional shape.

It’s also given me some incredible friendships and even a fair bit of drama. The good and the bad from studios that I’ve ventured into motivated a good friend and I to go as far as opening a studio which has turned into a beautiful and thriving community. I am regularly in awe of the people that I meet in the space we have created.

In fact, this sense of “connection to others” that pole has facilitated in my life has compelled me to start writing about it. My hobby that I feared others would discover was a key to discovering myself. I asked myself smart sounding things like, where did society’s expectations end, and where did I begin? To be honest, I’m still figuring that out, and I’ll probably never finalize an answer. That’s okay. The practice and the process that arises from these questions is what matters.

But when it comes to writing about pole, what I knew I didn’t want to do was create fitness content. I’m pretty lazy actually. Nor do I want to give tips and tricks for getting medals as I’m not a competitor either. I also don’t want to give advice about opening a studio business or becoming an instructor. 5 must-know transitions for learning Russian Exotic choreo! Which shoes should you buy? Nah. These are all potentially good topics, and while I might briefly allude to these types of things, other folks can do it better than I.

What I want to talk about is pole dance as a facilitator for life lessons. Some people can get a sexy pole workout in for the day, and that’s all the sport will ever be to them. Others like me are transformed by it leading us to dedicate years. Our relationship with that vertical bar has ebbs and flows, highs and lows and a lot of plateaus. A good portion (if not all) of my time was spent being pretty bad at pole actually. There’s a version of me that would consider it a shame that I wasted all this time on something just to be mediocre.

Then there’s me at this moment. No longer afraid of sucking at pole dance because that’s what happens when you do something for 10 years. What I’m really afraid of is sucking at writing which actually is hilarious when I think about it because wearing minimal clothes and flipping upside sounds so much more vulnerable than whatever is happening here.

However, I am trying to convince you that pole, like all things worth doing, is a metaphor. Like all good metaphors, it can reveal reality. A tool for us to grasp lofty truths about life and about ourselves. I feel extremely vulnerable with that kind of thesis being put in front of you, o’ reader mine. Also, who am I to pretend that I’m some sort of expert on either pole dancing or life?!

Still, I know that I’ve learned a thing or two along the way, and I want to trust that starting is the hardest part of all this, so here I am! Much like how I was in my first pole class. Unprepared. Scared. Excited. Completely clueless to where my first step will lead.